Alone
by aya-kun.zeroaddicted
Summary: Jason gets caught and made to experience his worst decision all over again. And this time, it wasn't because he'd felt unloved by B and the others. No, this time it was because he'd felt so much of it.
1. Jason

Injured Jay! (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ  
(As [almost] always. I'm [not] sorry.) -you have been warned on future fics.  
The future is red...fluffy or bloody but still red.

Also, I apologize for the mixed POV. And the sucky summary.  
No beta. I just write and hope that I catch errors. (Can't catch 'em all)

* * *

 _Oh shit._

He was going to die again.

If it wouldn't hurt so much, he would have laughed. But the pain was too much to even let him do no more than just wheeze.

 _Damn. Everything fucking hurts._

And what was worse…What was worse was the familiarity of…well, everything. All this pain from a beating that was done from head to toe. The blood loss to come after was going to put him in shock soon. His ankle and wrist were broken this time so it was even more difficult to try moving his restrained hands from behind and bring it in front of him.

It was painful to even try. Jason gave up and thought of maybe crawling away. To anywhere but here. He wasn't even sure though if he'd been left alone or if the Joker's goons were just guarding the entrance.

But then he heard it.

A familiar fucking beeping.

 _Didn't they ever hear of silent clocks?!_

Then again, that fucking clown was strangely sentimental so he shouldn't have been surprised. It looked like only the group beating was the new addition. And only probably because he'd broken Joker's arm before he could sic that fucking crowbar on him. Already asking away which hand he preferred since he hadn't answered him last time.

 _Piece of shit deserved more pain_. More than what he himself was feeling.

 _Fuck_.

 **10:33**

Jason glared at the timer. No, he stared at it. Frowning also hurt to do.

It hit him like a figurative crowbar that he was going to die again in the same manner as before…with blood loss and getting blown up.

 _In another fucking warehouse._

 _Okay, maybe I_ can _cough out a laugh_. Jason got one breath out but started choking on blood.

Laughing now inside his head instead, he thought again on how he was going to die. At least this time there was no one else to take with him. No other to share his fate. If he could choose anybody though, the Joker would've been the only one he wanted dead with him.

Fuck, but he suddenly felt lonely.

With his breathing gently slowing, Jason thought of his family. And really, that's what they were, right? Even with all the shit he'd tried to pull. He'd thought about it...When he'd moved past just hating everyone and everything. When he realized that the others had been right about B, about what Batman stood for. How much Bruce continued to carry that same guilt and more just weigh it down on himself. Jason was glad he'd also started to move past it. He was here now after all. Not just a memory. Not even a ghost. Not as angry. Not as lost. Not actively fighting against him. Against them.

And now. Now he didn't know if he'd ever get to go home.

It had been stupid to have argued. It hadn't even been something worth arguing about really. Being included in the family just because he had been wearing the bat made him panic and react like a stupid idiot. Feeling both grateful and undeserving of their acceptance just made him feel so hopeful, he knew it was just a matter of time before he fucked up and they'd leave.

But shit, it was even more stupid to have gotten caught like this. Forgetting he wasn't ever safe as a Bat. Even sort of estranged as he was with Gotham's dark family. But especially because of what he had been. Was. He didn't really know anymore.

Angry as he was though, he'd already stopped feeling the cold from the floor. He'd always had anger, the constant fuel to his body, the accompanying will to make him go through the day. And he was losing it.

His eyes were closing, his vision was already growing dim anyway. The red from the broken pieces of his helmet was the only thing he could see.

Or maybe that was the blood pouring from his head wound.

 **05:16**

Jason stared at the clock. There was still time to diffuse the bomb.

But it was a waste. He couldn't move. He already tried. He'd tried from the start. Even when it hurt just to breathe. Just to be. He couldn't even hear anything anymore. Which was nice (though worrying). Hearing that stupid countdown. Hearing himself trying (and failing) to move, to live, just made him lose more hope anyway.

The shadows looked to be creeping closer.

Jumping ahead of them, he went ahead and closed his eyes. Or at least his right eye. The left had already closed from the swelling and the blood pouring down.

 _I'm sorry_.

Jason repeated the litany. Out loud, in his head, he didn't know. Didn't care. Even if no one was there to hear him, he just had to say it.

 _I'm sorry._

 _Please._

 _Don't forget me._

* * *

Sorry for all the cussing. I was in a mood and it fit...

Chapter 2 is on the way...it just ran long...ish. I don't know. It was supposed to be short like this one. But noooo...


	2. Bruce

FYI, I know nothing medical. Forgive me any mistakes.

* * *

Bruce sat by his son's clinic bed and held his hand. It had been almost a month since they'd rescued him. Three weeks since he last gained consciousness and looked at them though confused. And now he was just sleeping. It might've just been the drugs. It might've just been his body's response to it's second death. Knowing his son had coded on the table for those few minutes had frozen him to the spot, it had taken being shaken roughly to come back and hear the rest of what Leslie had said.

Sitting here and looking at his son, all damaged and broken, Bruce worried about how Jason would be like when he woke (and he would. His son was strong. Stronger than anyone ever thought of him. Even himself). He thought about all the pain his son had gone through again, all the nearly same moments as those that had led to his first death. Bruce hadn't been there for him when Jason had doubted he was loved and welcomed into his home. He hadn't been there when fate decided to take his life...Wasn't there, when fate gave it back. He hadn't been strong enough to tell him he was enough, that him being alive was enough.

And now Jason, in his uncertainty and their over eager actions, had run away to get some space away from them. Only to be caught again. To be forced to experience his death again. To endure once more the Joker's brand of crazy. And even though as before, the madman was nothing but a broken body and beating heart, he wasn't sure it would be enough for his son. He worried. Knowing his son's pride, beaten as it was, Jason would be forced to think how nothing had changed. How he couldn't stop the Joker, how Bruce still wouldn't kill him. Even now...Even after learning of his obsession with Jay.

The villain had seen fit to talk about how Jason was _his_ robin, his _toy_ to play with, to break over and _over_ again ( _"Since he didn't stay dead the first time"_ ). How since Batman didn't want him anyway, had been willing to risk his robin over the Joker (it pained him to remember that moment) and was incapable of being any good to the boy (it had hurt to hear his inner doubt echoed by a lunatic), then _of course_ the boy was his for the taking. He was the Joker's property. Already branded since the little robin grew up to use his, the Joker's, first name.

 _"Finders keepers, Batsy."_

Bruce had grown chilled when the Joker first spoke, claiming his son as his own before the fire in him grew with each word that had followed.

 _"He's mine, Batsy. Ickle big robin had it wrong you know. He_ was _enough. You were the one who was never good enough for him. I told him as much. Had to beat it in him. But I think I got through. Ha! That would be good, wouldn't it? He'd be his rootin' tootin' self again. All pew pew on the people of Gotham!"_

With gritted teeth, Bruce pushed the memory away and concentrated on his son. On how to make things better. (How? How? _How_?)

 _Oh Jay_. Sagging into his seat, Bruce continued to hold his son's hand and prayed for Jason to wake up. To smile at him again like before.

No...like the few times he'd smiled with the family _since_ his return. Those were new. So rare, so precious. Bruce recalled the smiles Jason had the few times he hadn't been overwhelmed and had relaxed into his siblings' quirky dynamics. How he smiled at Alfred as he reoriented himself with the kitchen. Smiled and then wrinkled his nose at Bruce when he'd realized he had messed with his arrangement of the library the first time he'd willingly entered the manor.

"I promise to rearrange the books by myself if it will help you, Jay," he said softly as stared at his son's pale hand in his.

"Is...that...pro-mise?"

Startled, Bruce snapped his head up and focused on his son. His eyes grew wide when he saw half lidded eyes stare back him.

"Jay?" Bruce leaned close. "Jason? Jason?" he kept asking as those eyes closed again.

"That...my name. Don't...wear out."

Huffing, Bruce squeezed the hand he held and smiled. "It never will, Jaylad."

"Hmm. Feel...funny."

"You're on some pretty strong medication. And you've been out of it for a while."

All he got was another _hmm_. Bruce gave another squeeze of his hand before he stood up and began to let go.

A panicked breath and rough squeeze on his hand stopped him however. Bruce looked down to see Jason tear up.

Sitting down quickly, Bruce leaned over and carded his son's son hair, moving his hand in a soothing motion. "Shh. Jay, what is it?"

"Don't. Please d-don't."

"Don't what, son?"

Jason squeezed his hand again.

"What is it?"

"...go...Don't...go."

"Oh Jay." Bruce wiped away the tears that gathered at the corners, went back to soothing him. "I'm not going anywhere."

Jason only looked at him, not convinced. His hold on Bruce's hand was sporadic. Like he didn't know if he should hold on or not. Bruce tightened his own hold, thumb rubbing in circular motions.

Once he saw him calm down, he smiled and nodded his head to the side. Jason frowned in confusion.

"Here," he leaned back awkwardly as he used his unoccupied hand to go over his arm to pick up the remote he'd moved away when he'd first held Jason's hand. "Let me just call Leslie."

He saw Jason's eyes widen and then his face start to flush just like it used to when he was a boy. First appearing across his nose and the tips of his ears before spreading and connecting through his cheeks. Bruce had stood up only to call on Leslie.

Smiling away from him, Bruce saw at the corner of his eye, Jason making a face at his mistaken assumption and subsequent actions. He knew better of course than to comment and looked back when Jason pretended to sleep so he wouldn't see him. Bruce had to roll eyes and went back to carding his son's hair.

"Your hair has gotten longer. It's beginning to be all curly."

"Wha-!" Jason's eyes snapped open. Bruce held in a laugh as he remembered. If memory served right, Jason hated when his hair when was all curled up at the ends. The matrons and ladies who'd seen him back then used to pinch his cheeks and cooed over him, calling him a curly cutie.

Was that why he'd seen Jason with mostly cropped hair now? Or at least styled, like when he'd partnered up with Red Arrow back when he was still Arsenal.

Bruce tried not to smile when he heard Jason grumbling. It helped that Leslie came in then to distract him.

"Well then." Bruce raised a brow. Her short words didn't match the wide smile on her face. "Oh shush. I'm just glad he's awake and already being cranky."

"Hey!" came Jason's indignant huff.

"Am I wrong? Were you not just now grumbling and being all frowns?"

"It's B's fault."

Bruce nearly paled at her sharp expression. "I...I just said his hair had gotten longer. And curly," he added. As if that would explain anything. Leslie lost her sharp look and lifted a brow at both of them.

"It's not cute." Jason pouted. "Don't even think it."

Leslie rolled her eyes. And then her gaze sharpened at their hands. She gave Bruce a questioning look on the side while Jason continued his grumbling. Bruce answered it with a small shrug and just smiled. He certainly wasn't going to say anything and it was something he himself had not expected. But he was going to enjoy it while it happened. Before he inevitably did something wrong again and made Jason retreat.

Bruce watched as Leslie went through the motions of checking his vitals, his wounds, checked on the IV, lowered the morphine and questioned Jason to make sure there were no lingering effects from the concussion. Once she'd finished with having him perform some simple tests, she informed them that Jason was well on the way to a full recovery.

"Now I know how the family operates." Bruce tried not to frown at her intonation. Jason gave a short laugh. They weren't a mob. "So I can already guess your answer," Leslie continued, ignoring both their reactions. "But I'll ask anyway. Would you want to continue your recovery here, Jason? Or do you want to do so at home?"

Bruce fought against holding in his breath and stayed facing Leslie, acting normally. He probably didn't fool anyone since Leslie flicked her eyes at him and her brow twitched before she returned to look at Jason.

"I...want to go home. If that's okay...?"

"Alright, let me ready what you need." Giving a nod to Bruce who returned it, Leslie walked towards the door but stopped before leaving. "I'm glad you're okay, Jason." She gave him a smile and stepped out.

"It's okay...right?" Jason asked in a small voice.

Bruce turned to him then. Saw him biting his lip anxiously and felt Jason's hand open and close in his. Saw him flick his eyes towards him before looking back down.

"You're always welcome, Jay. Shall I inform Alfred then?"

At his nod, Bruce scooped up his phone from the bedside table and sent a message.

 _Jason wants to come home_. It felt good to type it and he would be glad to return home with his son.

Thinking of home though, Bruce hoped that his other children had behaved themselves while he'd mostly stayed here at the clinic. The past week had been stressful enough that he'd ordered them away from visiting and getting some rest while they'd been stretching themselves thin since some important leads had come up along with some recent breakouts. Only a few had gotten out though and were quickly brought back in. Cases were handled and closed. He hadn't been needed really and in fact had been ordered by them to stay by their brother's side. He'd given in to that order quickly.

A short set of beeps alerted him to a new message.

 _All has already been prepared, Master Bruce. I shall arrive within the half hour. Be informed, the others are still sleeping the night away. And please tell Master Jason I look forward to seeing him home again._

 _Will do, Alfie._

"Alfred's on the way and looking forward to seeing you back home." He smiled at Jason's look of joy. "Just let me go fix my things, okay?" Bruce slowly let go as he talked.

"Things?" Jason asked, confused. And then his eyebrows went up when he saw the second bed and duffle bag by the floor. "You stayed…" he whispered softly.

"Hmm?" Bruce looked back at Jason after he picked up the bag and set it on the bed. "Oh. Yes." He reached for some items on the side table and then reached in for others inside the cabinets.

"But. Gotham-"

"Is doing fine without me. Besides, your siblings and Barbara have it handled." He smiled, a little sadly, at Jason's continued look of disbelief. "Am I really that bad?"

He was talking about this low expectation from him. To be honest, he'd wondered lately at how his children still had moments of disbelief when he did something as a parent, as a father, should and would. He wanted to sigh and kick himself.

"...Thank you." Bruce looked up and saw Jason, ears pink as he turned away.

"Always, Jay."

* * *

When the two arrived home with Alfred, Jason gave an indignant squawk at having to be carried from the car to the wheelchair already prepared for use.

Damn his broken bones. He was just glad that an elevator had been installed and he didn't have to suffer Bruce carrying him up the stairs. Talk about embarrassing.

And then, as Bruce helped him on the bed in his room, he recalled the first time he'd been inside it. He'd been so surprised at how empty it had been. So sure that Bruce had done it on purpose to show he hadn't been missed. It took Bruce desperately apologizing and explaining how hard it had been to see anything of his to calm him down from the sudden anxiety attack.

It had surprised him then when he'd next stepped inside to find _things_ inside. Items he'd always used before. Stuff he'd collected during school trips and patrol. It had been one of the reasons for feeling overwhelmed by the family.

Now, he could see where his books had been placed back on their shelves, his guitar in it's case placed neatly on the side. The clothes he knew were new (he still refused them entering his more occupied safehouses, so they didn't take anything of his own clothing. And definitely, no one went to his apartment). He hadn't asked about it though and no one said anything. Materials for writing and empty notebooks that were placed neatly on his desk now sat waiting on the bedside table. Alfred's doing, he was sure.

He thanked whatever deity that no one else was up. He was already tired from all the moving. Once, everything was set, Jason began to asleep. He barely heard Bruce talking to him before his father stopped.

Jason didn't feel it and heard nothing but he grew peaceful when Bruce kissed him on the forehead and said goodnight.

Tomorrow, maybe Jason would talk about the attack. Maybe he wouldn't. Maybe he never would. But already, he knew that this time, this time for sure...He wouldn't be alone.

* * *

.

.

Well then...hope you liked it. I know it ain't long like you probably thought and that it's not full of stuff happening, except maybe emotionally, but I hope it was enough.

Thanks for reading. (^o^)/


	3. Family

Remembered Sophia the Scribe commented about a chapter with the boys. So I wrote this one with Jay surrounded by the boys and Cass. Yay for sibling love!

So totally lacking editing haha. Enjoy.

* * *

Jason has to blink to make sure he wasn't hallucinating.

The figures of his siblings were still there even after closing his eyes, counting to ten and opening them again.

Cass was lying next to him. Damian too was on the other side –probably because he still fit. But Dick and Tim are on chairs on opposite sides heads tossed back with mouths slightly open. The sight of it is funny. And though he only gives a small huff, he still wakes up his fellow assassins.

"Todd?" Damian blinks up at him.

Cass sits up and looks at him. Damian runs his eyes up and down, checks they hadn't pulled on his IV.

"What is funny?" Cass asks. Jason had not looked particularly in pain and she'd actually caught the laughter in his eyes before it grew surprised.

"What?" Damian frowns at him. "I thought I'd messed up your IV." He gave his own huff before sliding back down to sleep. "Go back to sleep, Todd."

Cass watched and waited, giving a big smile at Jason's raised brow.

Damian sat up quickly. "You're awake." He stared at Jason.

"Uhh," Jason said eloquently.

Cass giggled and both boys flushed red.

A choking sound was heard as Dick woke up and then coughed.

"Wha-? What?" Tim sat up quickly at the noise.

Jason felt like sinking into his comforter. Realizing once again about how strange this was. What were they doing here? Did they already want to kick him out or berate him for messing up? He knew he did. He did mess up. Messed up bad. This was it. They were gonna give up on him. This was just a last moment as 'family'. Bruce wasn't even here at all -probably regretting bringing him home now. If he could still call this home. No, it would always be home. Never mind what they thought…is what he wanted to think but what if they didn't want him here?

"Jay? Jay! Jason!"

Jason blinked at the face suddenly in front of him. Dick was looking at him worriedly. A hand on his shoulder, firm but not painful.

Cass was holding his free hand and rubbing circles over it with her thumb. She was looking at him softly with a smile. "It's alright, little brother."

Dick looked to her for an explanation after Jason stayed quiet and looked away. Jason tried to sink into the covers. Did he really just start to panic because he thought they'd push him away?

When he looked up at his sister. He had to wonder. Jason didn't really think Cass was all knowing. But she could probably guess that he both wanted and did not want to run. A bundle of contradictions, that's what he was.

Instead of answering Dick, Cass lay back beside Jason and gave him a one armed hug. Damian who'd moved back down the bed to let Dick snap Jason out of his head looked at him. Tim had moved closer and stood behind Cass. They looked worried. Jason was surprised.

Looking at them closely, he could read enough into their body language that they were concerned for him. That they were ready to fight any threat that came at them if the looks they shared after scanning the room was any indication. They probably thought something had triggered him. But it wasn't any threat. It was just more than his usual negativity. Seeing them now, he could only feel relief.

And that made Jason want to cry again. _The hell is in these meds?_ He'd been teary with Bruce earlier and had overreacted. And now, he'd had a near panic attack because he was feeling so emotional. Leslie had better not have messed with him and given him estrogens or some such thing.

Of course, if the meds were just strong then maybe crying was his default when being high.

 _Crap_. He did not want to know that.

Cass giggled at the faces Jason was making. She didn't quite know what was going through his head but she could see him becoming puzzled at himself and then embarrassed ( _that_ she could correctly guess as to why. Emotions that were not anger or sarcasm were always hard to express in their family. When shown without intention, they grew self-conscious. It was amusing that Jason was doubly more so than any of them. He was just like Bruce).

Grumbling, Jason turned away and sank further down his pillow. "Go away, Dickhead."

Dick gave a sigh of relief. "Oh good. For a moment there I thought we did something bad again."

Jason gave a mumbled reply.

"What was that?"

"Aren't…bad."

"Sorry, little wing. I didn't catch that," Dick said softly, afraid he was forcing the issue but he wanted to know what his brother said.

"Aren't I the one who was bad?"

"Wha-?"

"Tt. Don't be stupid, Todd."

"Yeah. It's our fault you got caught."

"We shouldn't have pushed the issue."

Jason didn't know what to say. Cass tightened her hold on his hand and he turned to her. "It's alright, little brother. We are here for you."

If he sniffled, that was okay. No one pointed it out and he'd already turned to hide his face in Cass' shoulders. Even pulled up the covers to hide further, ignoring Damian's squawk when he got pulled too.

If he heard a tray filled (he was sure) with food he liked, being set down on the nearby table, then Jason only had to smile at that certainty.

If another set of footsteps arrived, heavier and one familiar in his robin days when nightmares kept him up and just hearing those steps helped, then that was okay too. He didn't have to look to know. Didn't have to do anything but welcome the warm hand that stroked his head.

If his family was surrounding him with their warmth, with their love, then he was okay. He was going to be okay.


End file.
